Unchanging
by Nona Mousy
Summary: [post S3] Home just isn't where you left it.


You've been sitting in the same tavern beside the sea for a week now and nothing has changed. The air still smells like salt and fish, the beer is still watery and flat and the company is still transient and unfamiliar.

Outside the old inn where you're staying; the city you once called home has changed less than you expected for the time you've been gone. The huge transport barges are the same as ever. The small market up the street is still loud and chaotic and if it has grown larger than it was before you can't be sure, memory being tricky when it comes to things like that. The shops are still where you left them, though the owners and wares have changed more frequently than not. The people are the same and different at once, and it is odd to see no familiar faces in the crowds, though the crowds themselves move and seem superficially familiar.

A week you have been back here, looking for something... waiting for something that doesn't seem to be coming. You came here thinking it was time to go home, but this place that is and is not familiar to you does not feel like home. The people that made it a home are long gone and what it left is a world you know but are no longer a part of.

For the fourth day in a row you think it is time to leave.

That same something that has held you here longer than you should have stayed stops you though and you are left to stare idly out a nearby window at the sea. The ocean, you think, is the closest thing you have to kin these days. It is the only thing you have found that always feels the same, no matter where you find it or what facade it wears.

"Well, I had wondered who it was I would find here!" The voice that startles you out of your contemplation of the water is familiar and that is enough of an oddity that you actually jump a bit out of your seat as you turn to face the speaker.

He looks at once younger and older than you remember him being and for a moment you can't find your voice to respond. He seems amused at flustering you and he sits without invitation in the chair beside you, stretching long limbs contentedly.

"You knew I would be here?" You manage finally, unable to stop staring in spite of yourself.

He is superficially a vision of youth and health and you can hear the old ladies sitting a few tables away murmuring curiously, no doubt wondering whose cradle you are robbing. He was a mere child when you first met him all those years ago, and at barely sixteen hardly an adult even by his own culture's standards when he took on the rune. He might, you think, be able to pass for a year or two older now but only marginally and largely by the strength of his bearing which is so much more confident, so much easier, so much more... mature... than you remember that you almost wonder if this is some young clone, a great grand something perhaps, rather than the original.

"Not you, per say." He has flagged down a bar maid in the time you have spent regaining your wits and pauses in his answer to charm her into brining him a mug of sweet wine. "But I knew when I passed by Brass there would be someone here." He smiles and in the easy grin you can see a bit more of the boy you once knew. "I will say I'm glad it was you."

"Ah.." You agree vaguely, not at all sure what to say to that. It has been too long since you've held a real conversation with another human, you think, and try to recall the last time you spoke with someone you might have called 'friend'. It has been rather longer than you would like to remember.

"You look well." You manage at last, and its the truth though you've said it more out of conditioned politeness than observation.

He is not wearing his familiar clansman armor and it seems another oddity to see him in the loose shirt and breeches. The scars that were still so obvious the last time you saw him have faded to thin pale welts in the convening years and are noticeable on the still young skin of his cheeks more because you know where to look than because they are especially visible... But more than his outward appearance is something deeper. The boy you remember was not at peace with himself... This man in a child's body seems to be.

"Thanks." He agrees casually, accepting his drink from the passing bar maid who smiles and flushes at him prettily before scampering off to other duties. "You look tired." He tells you and you glower in response. Boy or man, his tact has not improved.

He laughs at your annoyance and leans forward to cover your right hand with his. The soft pulse of rune against rune sends a shiver down your spine. It has been a very long time indeed since you were with one that was like you.

"Don't scrunch up that lovely face, Chris, whatever would your knights do if you were to get wrinkles!" The memories of six faces you cannot forget stab at you, but the pain is less than you would imagine at the reminder and a small mirthful snort escapes you in spite of yourself at the idea.

"I imagine they would be at a complete loss, utterly hopeless the lot of them." You tell him, and he erupts into laughter at the other side of the table, entirely oblivious to anyone nearby that might now be staring. This has not changed about him either it seems.

"Ah, they would cry to hear you say so I'm sure." He agrees, still with a fond grin on his face and for awhile you can both fall into a companionable silence and remember.

It is nice, you think, to sit with another that does not feel the rush of time pushing them to speak. For awhile you only breathe and there is nothing but memory and calm and the residual sense of his hand on yours to occupy the space between you.

"I haven't been back here since Percy's funeral." You tell him eventually. He only looks at you quietly in response, a silent invitation to continue. "Somehow I expected it to have changed more in that time, but the city's like us in a way isn't it? The people walking the streets are different but the stones are still the same."

"Some things are like that." He agrees, a faintly wistful look on his face. "I sometimes wish I could say the same about Karaya, but it seems to change every time I stop by. Not just the faces, but the buildings and even the traditions. I can't blame them for it, every group of people has a right to change and grow, but sometimes when I crest that hill in the plains and look down at it I still expect it to look like it did when I was young."

"Its not home anymore." You tell him, and its both a statement about Vinay del Zexay and a question about Karaya and neither at the same time.

"Maybe that's how it has to be." He agrees.

"Maybe."

Out the window that you've spent so much time staring through the mid-day sun is beginning to grow long, the light fading into a warm afternoon glow. Its a day like many others you've lived, but somehow it seems more vibrant than usual.

"What brings you here?" You wonder eventually, turning back to study him. He refused many times to visit the Zexen capital again in the time you were still living here and it seems odd to find him willingly in its walls even now.

"Escort." He tells you with a half grin. "I was just passing through and the elders asked me to bring someone here to catch a boat."

"Passing through Karaya?" You wonder, confused at the statement. It seems odd for anyone in his former village to remember who he is.

"Hmm." He agrees absently, eyes on something out the window. "I try to stop by every few years if I can, talk with them... remember."

Its another one of those cultural things, you suppose – that the Karaya people do not find it odd to have an immortal member drop in on occasion.

"That's her." He interrupts your thoughts, pointing out the window across the dock to where a young woman is talking cheerfully with one of the owners of the small market stalls that line the wharf. She's not hard to spot even in the relative chaos of the area, her brightly colored clothes stand out like a patch of wildflowers against the sea of washed out blues and browns and greys of the Zexen people around her. "She's my great granddaughter." He tells you and its the last thing you could have expected to hear.

"What?" You manage intelligently after a moment and he grins a bit at your surprise.

"I was married once." He tells you, and his eyes do not leave where the girl is standing. There is a fond wistfulness in his gaze and voice now. "It was expected of me as Chief, and I suppose its one thing to hear you're never going to grow older and another to understand what that really means."

"Oh." Its all you can think to say. Looking out at the girl you wonder how he can stand it – to watch his children and their children live and age and die.

The girl turns away from the market stalls and you can see her face clearly now, all proud features and strong cheekbones. She's quite lovely and you wonder with a thread of amusement how many times your friend has had to chase away suitors on the trekke here.

"I see a bit of Lucia in her, now you mention it." You muse and he snorts in stifled laughter beside you again at the comment.

"Yes," He agrees, "Fortunately the resemblance is only skin deep. She's about as much like mother as night is like day." There's a flash of pain on his face at the memory of the proud woman but it passes quickly. "She's a healer." He continues after a moment, "The clan's pooled some resources to have her sent off to have additional training."

"Ah." You watch with him until the girl has wandered out of sight. "Should you be with her right now?" You wonder after a moment.

"Ha! She's been here before, as I got to hear with great frequency most of the trip here. She assured me quite forcefully that she was quite alright on her own." He looks equal parts amused and harassed over it and you can only laugh with him over it. "I'll go see her off in the morning, though. I promised her father that and all the whining in the world won't chase me away."

"Its strange to think of you with children." You tell him, and almost immediately wish you hadn't.

"Its strange to think of you without." He returns, not sounding at all upset in spite of your discomfort.

"I don't think I could do that." Your life has been a strange sequence of events and it is hard to think of a time even before the rune when you could have imagined settling down and raising children.

"I can only have the life I've lived." He muses thoughtfully, "I can't say it would have been better or worse without them, but I know I've never regretted a moment I've spent with any of them."

"Even the whining?" You wonder teasingly, and he laughs again.

"Even then." He agrees.

For awhile you both fall back into companionable silence. You've forgotten, you realize, how it feels to simply relax with a friend and your heart aches fresh with missing your former comrades.

"What will you do after you've seen her off?" You ask eventually.

"Ah... no plans especially." He leans back in his chair fiddling idly with one of his sleeves. You notice the rough hem has begun to come loose where he has worried at it. "I was thinking of seeing if I couldn't run into Geddoe before I found you actually."

"You've seen him?" You ask, trying to recall the last time you saw the mercenary. It has been far longer even than the last time you saw the man across from you.

"Now and then." He agrees and there's a thoughtful look on his face as he studies you across the table. "You're welcome to come with me... If you haven't got anything more pressing. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

You snort and try to imagine Geddoe as being anything like 'thrilled' over... well, anything, much less your presence. Still, there's nothing here for you and you haven't got any real need to be elsewhere.

"I might take you up on that." You agree and try not to be too pleased at the blinding grin that he graces you with. "Where is he these days? Caleria still?"

"I haven't a clue in the foggiest." He tells you cheerfully, and for a moment you can only stare at him. Its exactly the sort of idiotic answer you'd have expected from him years ago, all passion and no forethought.

"What! Then how by the goddess are you expecting to find him?"

"Well, I found you after all, didn't I?" He argues and you can only shake your head at the absurdity of the statement.

"That was pure luck."

"Was it?" He presses and your mind wanders back to the first thing he said to you.

"You knew I would be here?"

"Well, not you specifically, but a rune holder." He agrees, rubbing absently at his hand. You feel an echoing sensation in your own but can't be sure you're not imagining it. "Its not such a big world out there, Chris. Not for us anyway, and it seems to me that if you put two people with runes in the same general area they have an interesting habit of running straight into one another."

The memory of your inexplicable inability to leave Vinay floods back to you and you wonder if there's something to his theory.

"Maybe..."

"No such thing as coincidence." He presses and you can only give in to his logic with a sigh. It has never really been worth arguing with him, he has always been able to win on pure stubbornness.

"Elder Hugo!" A cheerful voice interrupts any further discussion and you turn to face the front of the tavern where a familiar young Karayan girl is waving at your companion. This close her resemblance to Lucia is even more pronounced. You wonder if that makes it harder or easier for him to be near her.

"Ah, I should go." Hugo waves back at her, before turning back to you. "She's off early, can I meet you for first meal?" He wonders, and there is a charming smile on his face that you remember him giving last to the bar maid.

"I'd like that." You agree and thank time and the goddess that you have outgrown your tendency towards easy flushing.

* * *

The morning dawns clear and crisp and you pack your things before heading down to the inn's tavern. He's there already, lounging casually at the table you occupied the day before, a wistful smile on his face as he stares out over the docks.

"Everything alright?" You question, as you sit across from him.

"Wonderful." He agrees.

"So we can leave today? I've been stagnating here too long already." There is another of those brilliant grins in response and the small part of you that has been worrying over this dissolves.

"Absolutely. I'm always a bit more for open land anyway, and Caleria's easy to reach this time of year." He agrees readily.

"I thought you said he wasn't in Caleria?"

"Ah, I said I wasn't sure where he was," He corrects you lightly, "But Caleria's always a good place to start, and the old man's a bit set in his ways, I run into him there as often as not." You can't help but laugh at this proclamation.

" 'Old Man Geddoe', eh?" You muse, wondering what the mercenary would think of such a title. He grins a bit deviously and you can see his mind working on the same idea.

"He can complain when he stops calling me a kid." He tells you, and you cannot keep from laughing again. Something in the sound and feeling is soothing and familiar and you think that perhaps in spite of not finding it in Vinay, you may have still found a way to come home.


End file.
